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/AITING FOR THE MASTER 

... KNO... 

OTHER ROETV^S. 



By MRS. MARY A. VALENTINE. 




THE U. B. PUBLISHING ESTABLISHMENT PRINTERS 
HUNTINGTOM. INDIANA. 



.72 



WAITING FOR THE MASTER 

AND 

OTHER POEMS, 

By MRS. MARY A.' VALENTINE. 



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PRAYING THAT THIS LITTLE BOOKLET 

MAY PROVE A BLESSING TO ALL WHO READ IT, 

I DEDICATE IT FIRST 

TO 

MY DEAR savior; 

THEN 
TO MY HUSBAND, 

REV. G. w. valentine; 

AND 

MY TWO DAUGHTERS, 

MRS. MAY WARFIELD AND MRS. DAISY E. RITTER. 



MRS. MARY VALENTINE. 




i 0J1J"> i t Lit} , 



Personal History of Mary Valentine 



WRITTEN BY HER DAUGHTER. 

MRS. MARY A. VAIvENTINE {nee Clark) was 
born in Fulton County, Ohio, April 24, 1853. 
She was united in marriag-e with Rev. G. W. Val- 
entine, May 19, 1875, and they are the parents of 
two daughters. Mother became a Christian at the 
ag-e of fifteen years, and has ever been a faithful, 
earnest worker in the Master's cause. She has suf- 
fered g-reatly for several years, but was able to be 
about in our home, and among- her friends until 
three years ag-o last September, when she became 
so ill that she was confined to her bed, where she 
has had to remain ever since with the exception of 
six or eight weeks once, when she was able to sit 
up for a few moments at a time. She has been an 
extreme sufferer the g^reater part of the time, but 
amidst it all she has been cheerful and patient, and 
trusting- implicitly in her Lord and Savior, Jesus 
Christ. 

Many times to all appearances she has been 
almost home. At one time she was so near g-one 
that she was unconscious of all earthly surrounding-s 



for several hours, and when she returned to con- 
sciousness, and was able to talk, she told us that 
she had been so near home that she could see across 
the river of Death on whose banks she was stand- 
ing. She could see the golden shore and the shining 
hosts robed in white, and when she reached out her 
hands in her eagerness to go, they said to her: 
" Not yet, but by and by." She is still alive and 
suffering, but is submissive to her Master's will. 
She has always been an active worker, and even in 
her affliction she desired to do something for the 
advancement of her Lord's cause, and kept -prs.jing 
that he would show her what she could do to help 
in some small way. It was impressed upon her to 
piece a missionary quilt, which brought about nine 
dollars for missions. 

Later she was impressed to write, and she has 
written a great deal, part of which she gives to the 
public in this little booklet, hoping and praying 
that it may help some who may chance to read it, 
to give their hearts to God, and it may help to 
encourage and lift up some whose hearts may be 
bowed down with sorrow and affliction and discour- 
agement, praying that it may prove a blessing to 
all who read it. The proceeds from this booklet, 
aside from the actual expenses, will be used'for the 
advancement of the Lord's cause. 

Yours sincerely, 

MAY WARFIELD. 



Waiting for the Master. 



I await the Master's coming-, 

And a great gladness comes to me, 

For in its sweet unfolding, 
Mj Savior's love I see. 

Wait, as thej that watch for the morning; 

Waiting, by day, and by night; 
Wait for the glorious day dawning 

When faith shall be lost in sight. 

I know that at any moment 
The Lord of my life may come. 

To take me from this cloud-land. 
Up to the lights of home. 

They say I may have no warning, 

That I may not even hear 
The rustle of his garments 

As he softly draweth near. 

Perhaps he may come in the noon-tide 
Of some bright and sunny day. 

When with loved ones all around me, 
My life may ebb away. 

Or, when stars are softly shining 
O'er the slumbering land and sea; 

It may be in that holy stillness 
The Master may come for me. 



WAITING FOR THE MASTER 



It matters not when he cometh, 
At rise, or at set, of sun, 

If, with the g-ood and faithful. 
He shall say to me " Well done!" 



I await the Master's coming-, 
Wait at his very feet; 

After the pain of earth-life, 
Rest with him will be sweet. 



One Year in Bed. 



WRITTEN AT THE CLOSE OF FIRST YEAR OF ILLNESS. 

One year in bed, one year of pain; 
One year of blest communion g-ained. 
One year of g-reater inward g-rowth, 
Of waiting- until he saith, " Enough! " 

Dear Lord, my times are in thy hand, 
To live or die at thy command; 
And only this my prayer shall be, 
Eternal life, and rest, with thee. 



Why ling-er here I cannot tell, 
But know he doeth all thing-s well: 
And I would still submissive be. 
For I can trust my all to thee. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 



And while with me he still abides, 
And with his love and spirit g-uides, 
In sweet communion day by day, 
Rejoicing- as my strength gives 'way. 

Assured of this, that when the end 
Of my earthly pilg-rimag-e shall come, 
I shall at rest with Jesus be. 
To praise him there eternally. 

For those who love his holy name. 
And in their hearts the holy flame 
Of love divine, so rich, so sweet. 
Are found in him, at last complete. 

Then in my heart from day to day 
Renew this flame of love, I pray; 
Keep me from falling — let me prove 
The undying riches of thy love. 

Oh! love divine, so rich, so sweet. 
Stay thou forever in my heart; 
To me thine image, Lord, bequeath. 
And never let me from thee depart. 



Over the River. 



Over the river, by faith 1 see, 
Many loved ones there waiting for me. 
There by the river so crystal bright. 
In that holy land of peace and light. 



lO WAITING FOR THE MASTER 

Over the river, they're g-athering- home, 
Daily, and hourly, one by one. 
Entering- that land no more to roam, 
And watching- still for more to come. 

Waiting- for me is a father there, 
And by his side my mother dear; 
Brothers three and a sister fair. 
Praising- the Savior, so free from care. 

Waiting for me, for they loved me true. 
Teaching- me to serve Jesus my whole life through. 
Then he would bring me to dwell at home. 
With other dear ones to follow on. 



To meet with loved ones! the thought is sweet, 
To worship ever at the Father's feet; 
But to see the Redeemer face to face — 
The love in his eyes lights up the place! 

To rest with the Master, oh! bliss complete. 
For a taste of his love here is, oh! so sw^eet 
That my poor heart pulsates with thrills of joy. 
To live with him in glory without alloy. 

Then let us strive from day to day 

To serve him ever, and watch and pray; 

When life is ended, to hear from the throne, 

" Come home, my child! Well done, well done!" 



AND OTHER POEMS. 1 1 



Come, Follow Jesus. 



Oh, that all would follow Jesus, 
Oh, that all would taste his love; 

Oh, that all would love and fear him, 
That they mig-ht live with hitn above. 

Come, ye sinners, follow Jesus, 
He's your dearest, truest friend; 

If you'll only love, obey him, 
He will be with you to the end. 

Oh, how sad to think of missing- 
All the joys prepared for those 

Who will turn from sin and Satan, 
Shall safely reach the home above. 

He so loves each sin-wrecked mortal 
With a love so great, so free. 

That he calls to every creature, 
" If you will only follow me! " 

" I have paid the debt your sins cost, 

I the ransom freely g-ave; 
Bore the mocking-, spitting-, scourging-. 

Crown of thorns, then died to save." 

All the wounds received on Calvary, 
Cruel spikes, and spear-pierced side; 

All alone, he feels forsaken — 
Hear him cry before he dies. 



12 WAITING FOR THE MASTER 

*' Why forsake me, oh, my Father! 

Why leave me to die alone? 
In obedience to thy mandate, 

All thy bidding-s I have done. " 

Hear the exultant cry triumphant, 
" It is finished, all is done; 

I have borne the sins of many; 
AM who will may freely come. 



" All may now have life eternal, 
For a love so great, unknown. 

That each one may feel my pardon. 
As if I died for them alone. 

" Salvation's cup is freely offered, 
There's not one will be denied; 

Take my yoke, and follow, follow! 
Come, oh, come! be quick, decide!' 

Hear him cry to every creature, 
"Weary, heavy laden, come; 

Come to me, I'll bear your burden; 
For every one there now is room. 

"I'll g-o with you all your journey. 
Bear you up above the tide, 

Till your life work here is ended, 
Then safe at home with me abide. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 1 3 



Sing Praises. 



Praise the Lord for sins forg-iven, 
Praise him for a hope of heaven; 
Praise him for his word of truth, 
And that I learned it in my youth. 

Praise the Lord, his grace is mine, 
Fills my soul with love divine; 
Makes me happy, strong-, and free. 
As my Lord, by faith, I see. 

He is my refug-e, and my streng-th. 
My hig-h tower, and my defence; 
He the rock in which I hide, 
My unfailing- friend and guide. 

He my prophet, priest and king", 
His the streng-th on which I lean; 
His the love, so rich and sweet. 
Makes my rest in him complete. 

As I'm sitting- at his feet, 
And his blessing I entreat, 
Showers of love on me abide, 
Bearing- me above the tide. 

Makes my sick room one of light, 
With his g-lorious presence brig-ht, 
Hovering- o'er me, day and nig-ht. 
Until my soul shall take its flig-ht. 



14 WAITING FOR THE MASTER 

To the realms of endless day 

In the unseen far away, 

Glory, glory be to him, 

Who is my Prophet, Priest and King-. 

Redeemer, Savior, truest friend, 
He'll be with me to the end; 
In the sunlight of his love 
I shall reach my home above. 

There with all the ransomed race 
I sha;ll see him face to face; 
I shall then his glory share. 
And a crown of life shall wear. 

Praise the Father, and the Son, 
Holy Spirit, three in one; 
Praise him, all ye hosts of light. 
Praise him for eternal life. 



Lines to a Friend. 



Dear friend, I pen this line to thee. 
Perchance 'twill bring a thought of me, 
Tho' parted far by land or sea. 
Or I be in eternity. 

In the prayer circle oft we've met. 
And there communed with God; 
And oft have felt his love and power. 
And again his chastening rod. 



AND OTHKR POEMS. 1 5 



This life is but a dreary maze, 
Unless you walk in God's own ways: 
Then we receive divinest love, 
Rest, comfort, and a home above. 

Eternal life at God's right hand, 
A home among- the white robed band; 
The loved and lost ones there to meet. 
With glad rejoicings each to greet. 

To you, dear friend, I now would say, 
Walk ever in the narrow way; 
Work earnestly, others to save, 
Until 3'ou find rest in the grave. 

And now, dear friend, a long farewell. 
Till with the blood- washed throng we dwell; 
Our loving Savior there we'll see, 
And praise him there eternally. 



The Love of Christ. 



Sweet love of Christ, how dear, how kind, 

A matchless legacy; 
Thou fillest this poor heart of mine 

With glorious ecstacy. 

Come, fill my heart with heavenly grace. 

Let me enraptured stand, 
And gaze on thee, oh, love divine. 

Engrave it on m}^ mind. 



1 6 WAITING FOR THE MASTER 

Sun of my soul, my Savior dear, 
Thy love, so sweet, so true. 

Will g"o with us, while life lasts here. 
And the bliss of eternity prove. 

Love, love, so matchless, so divine, 

Was never seen or felt, 
Till thou, oh. Savior, came to earth. 

And in our souls did dwell. 

So come, oh, love of Christ, our King", 

And bid all sorrow cease; 
Come as on flig-ht of ang-el wing-, 

Take us home, to dwell in peace. 



Decoration Day. 



Yes, decorate the soldiers' graves. 
They may not know, 'tis true; 

They who foug-ht, and bled and died, 
For the red, the white, the blue. 

Decorate the soldiers' graves, 
They loved their country well; 

For her they left their homes, and friends. 
And suffered, toiled, and fell. 

On Southern battle-fields they gave 
Their lives for freedom's cause; 

For honor, and the nation's rights. 
Our heroic, gallant boys. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 



Then decorate the soldiers' graves, 
They were noble, brave and true; 

For God, and home, and native land, 
They held aloft the blue. 

In prison cells they languished, too; 

Knew hung-er, cold, and pain, 
Until, beneath our g-lorious flag. 

They breathed free air again. 

Oh, God of Battles, thou who gave 

The victory to the right. 
Wilt thou look down and save our land 

From every evil blight? 

Drive out the fearful curse of rum. 

That demon of despair. 
That's rushing countless souls to hell, 

Breaking mothers' hearts with care. 

As in the da3^s of slavery past. 

Arouse the people now. 
To drive this hideous monster out. 

That none may to him bow. 

Oh, help them, work, and pray, and vote, 

As soldiers for the right. 
Until all vice of every kind 

Is driven from our sight. 

Then decorate the soldiers' graves. 

Give them all honor due; 
They fell to free a million slaves. 

Under the red, the white, the blue. 



l8 WAITING FOR THE MASTER 

Then decorate them, year by year, 
To keep their memory bright; 

They saved our country, with their blood, 
From slavery's awful blight. 



Thanksgiving Day. 



Thanfesg-iving- Day has come again, 

Another year is past; 
We've h^d the sunshine, and the rain. 

Been with abundant harvest blest. 

Our hearts with gratitude do glow 

To the giver of all good; 
For blessings given from day to day, 

For home, and clothes, and food. 

With loved ones here our hearts to cheer 

Along life's weary way; 
We praise his name, we have no fear, 

This glad Thanksgiving Day. 

The Lord has promised to supply 

Our each returning need; 
Our praises shall ascend on high, 

And to his ways give heed. 

Thanksgiving Day has come again, 

We meet to sing, and pray; 
Rejoice and sing, the Lord is King, 

This glad Thanksgiving Day. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 1 9 



We thank him now for all we have, 
We'll thank him o'er and o'er; 

And now, and when life here is past. 
We'll love him and adore. 



Thanksgiving Day — November 30, 1899. 



THE AFFLICTED MOTHER'S WORDS TO THE DEAR ONES 
AT PARTING. 

We praise thee this day, oh. Heavenly Father, 
that we are all spared to see another Thanksgiving- 
Day; but more for the blessed privileg^e of calling- 
thee our Father, and feeling- that thou dost indeed 
own us, thine own. We praise thee for home and 
dear ones, and loving- care, and thoug-h somewhat 
disappointed that all the loved ones are not gathered 
under the parental roof-tree, still we thank thee 
that all are alive; and, oh, how much sadder it 
would be if, in the final home-gathering in the 
great Thanksgiving Day, any of the dear ones 
should be missing. Oh, grant, dear Father, loving 
Savior, that in that day all — all may hear, "Wel- 
come home!" to come in to go out no more, forever; 
no, more, good-by; but praise, and peace, and joy 
forevermore! Amen. 

We praise thee, oh, our Savior King, 
For hope of life with thee above; 

We'll join to make the arches ring 

With thanks and praise to him we love. 



20 WAITING FOR THK MASTER 



Christmas Bells. 



Ring-, oh, ring-, ye Christmas bells, 
Ring- aloud the news to tell, 
Of the Savior's wondrous birth; 
Send the news o'er all the earth. 

Riiig- aloud to every clime, 

" Peace on earth, good will to men! " 

'Tis the angels' welcome cry 

To the shepherds, from the sky. 

Unto all these, tiding-s bring-. 
Unto you this day is born, 
Jesus Christ, our Lord and King-, 
Sang the ang-elic hosts this song-. 

Ring aloud, ye Christmas bells, 
Let human voices the music swell, 
Till every heart shall own him king-, 
And every soul shall homag-e bring-. 

Ring g-ladly, cherrily! Ring-, oh, ring-! 
Sing- to his praise, ye sons of men; 
Sing- ye the song- of redeeming love, 
A song- ne'er sung- by the hosts above. 

Angels ne'er tasted the wondrous bliss 
Of sins forg-iven; no love like this 
Was ever tasted, in earth, or sky. 
Like the love that g-ave our Lord to die. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 21 



Then ring-, oh, ring, ye Christmas bells! 
Ring- merrily, cherril}^! the news to tell 
That Christ was born on Christmas day, 
And died to wash our sins away! 



Farewell to the Old Year. 



Farewell, old year, we hate to have thee g-o, 

But no matter what we will, 
Old Father Time will have it so, 

And so we say farewell, we love thee still. 

Strang-e, too, since thou hast broug-ht to us such 
pain 
Of body and, at times, unrest of mind; 
But then we think of other times ag-ain. 

When joy supreme was ours— care, pain was left 
behind. 

Joy of dear companionship of loved ones. 
And dearer still, the joy of joys divine; 

When Jesus came, love did me surround, 

And so we prized thee well, old Father Time. 

But now a glad new year has come. 

Who knows but it will guide me home? 

Oh, come, Lord Jesus, set my spirit free, 
And let me evermore abide with thee. 



22 WAITING FOR THK MASTER 

Oh, Ivord, let many in this g-lad new year 

Learn thee to fear, to serve, and trust, and love, 

Keep thy commandments with a holy fear. 
Then dwell with thee in thy home above. 



Three Years in Bed. 



Three years in bed! how long- it seems! 
Three years of watching-, weakness, pain; 
Oh, gracious Lord, help me to be 
Submissive, meek, yea, more like thee. 

Three years makes now the sum complete. 
Of watching at the Master's feet, 
Until he bid me cease to moan. 
And says to me, " My child, come home." 

Give me, dear Lord, much grace and strength, 
I would not murmur, nor complain; 
Each day and hour, till I go hence, 
I want to honor thy dear name. 

Oh, yes, the days would weary be, 
My gracious Savior, without thee; 
Thy many blessing's to me prove. 
Thy ceaseless care and matchless love. 

So keep me, Lord, from day to day. 
Enclosed within thy loving arms. 
Until thou call me hence away, 
To look upon thy wondrous charms. 



P 



AND OTHER POEMS. 23 



Ready to Go. 



Ready to go, to live with God, 
Ready to rest beneath the sod; 
Ready to walk the streets of gold. 
Ready to share that bliss untold. 

Ready now to be offered up, 

Having here tasted the bitter cup, 

I have fought the fight, I have kept the faith. 

Ready for the call, be it soon, or late. 

Ready a crown of life to wear, 

Ready that home of love to share. 

Oh, bliss when the Righteous Judge shall say, 

" Come, enter in; come home to stay!" 

Ready a robe of white to wear. 
Ready the victor's palm to bear; 
Our eyes shall behold the crystal sea, 
The gates of pearl, and life's fair tree. 

Rest, weary pilgrim; thy toil is o'er, 
A long, long rest on that happy shore. 
Thy Saviour's praises forever sing. 
And bask in the smile of Christ, our King. 

Sweet is the rest his saints shall gain. 
Rest from the care, the toil, the pain; 
Tears wiped away by God's own hand. 
To fall nevermore in that heavenly land. 



24 WAITING FOR THE MASTER 

The blood- washed throng- around his throne 
Shall shout his praise who sits thereon; 
His match-less name in anthems raise, 
Their lips all tuned to sing- his praise. 

Glory to thee, my God, this night, 
For all the blessings of the light; 
Glory to thee, our matchless King, 
Glory and praise to thee we bring. 

Then ready to go to the glory land, 
Ready to dwell with the white-robed band; 
Ready to praise thee, my Savior King, 
Glory, and praise, and homage bring. 



Farewell to Husband and Children 



WRITTEN ON SICK-BED. 

Grieve not for me, dearest husband. 
When the Lord shall call me above; 

Pause and think that I am resting 
Where you very soon will come. 

Pain and toil has been our earth-lot, 
Sweetened by our mutual love; 

Pain and care will be forgotten 
When we reach our home above. 



AND OTHER POEMS. 25 



Stay thou near me, dearest husband, 

Until I reach the river side; 
Hold my hands until my Savior 

Comes himself to be m}' ^uide. 

He will g-uide me safely over 

To a home among- the blest, 
Where among the loved and lost ones. 

We shall have eternal rest. 

Help our children, darling- husband, 
As they strive to reach the g"oal; 

They will need your help and counsel 

While they are strug-g-ling- on life's shoals 

Tho' unseen, I shall be near you. 
Near to comfort, cheer and bless; 

Near to help you bear your burdens 
Until you reach the land of rest. 



F.irewell, husband! Farewell, children 
How I've loved you none can tell. 

Love my Savior, always trust him, 
Then come home with him to dwell. 

You will miss me, husband, children — 
Miss me everywhere you g"o; 

Vacant chair and silent footsteps 
Tell to you a tale of woe. 

But my spirit, freed, immortal. 
Enters bliss no tong-ue can tell. 

Come there to me, husband, children; 
Dearest ones, farewell! farewell! 



26 WAITING FOR THE MASTER 



The Love of God. 



The love of God is so wonderful in its height, 
and depth, and length, and breadth — so far beyond 
our ])ar finite conception that we can only stand 
amazed as we try to understand it. Consider the 
giving up the only begotten of the Father — the 
jewel of heaven — full of grace and truth, to die the 
dreadful death on the cross! after such shameful 
indignities — spitting in that lovely face, crowning 
that blessed head with thorns, scourging his back 
with cruel cords! Oh, can it be that I helped do 
such a terrible deed? Yea, truly my sins helped to 
nail him to the cross. My iniquities were laid upon 
him, and by his stripes we are healed. Oh, 'twas 
truly a wondrous love that gave Jesus to die. And 
he loves each one of us with just such a love. Love 
so amazing, so divine, demands my life, my love, 
my all. And he said, "No man takes my life from 
me; I lay it down and take it again — a willing 
sacrifice," because he loves us so. Do we love him? 
Are we ready to follow him, make sacrifice to serve 
him, or to help to bring others to Jesus? And he 
calls to each one, " Come unto me, weary, heavy 
laden. Come now, for all things are now ready. 
Take my cross and follow me, and you shall have 
peace that passes understanding, and a home in 
heaven." God help each one to come. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




015 930 637 9 



